


Passion in Paris

by RunningOutsideTheLines



Series: Rockstar Draco [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Concerts, Draco Malfoy Has Long Hair, H/D Fan Fair 2019, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hopeful Ending, M/M, POV Harry Potter, Paris (City), Photographer Harry Potter, Pining Harry Potter, Post-Hogwarts, Pre-Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Rock Star Draco Malfoy, Secondary Theme: Travel Fair, Sexy Draco Malfoy, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 08:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20832191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunningOutsideTheLines/pseuds/RunningOutsideTheLines
Summary: Harry is hired to be the Photographer for Draco Malfoy's new band.  He and Ron show up late to their first concert and only have time to find a good vantage point before the show begins.The music was fantastic, snarky and upbeat and catchy as hell.  Malfoy croned into the microphone, his rich voice rumbling down every spine as he sang.“We used to rule the world…” he sang as the music swelled beneath his voice.“... but we lost it,” The crowd sang with him.“The darkness bled us out,” Malfoy sang back.“ … we just watched it,” the crowd responded.





	Passion in Paris

**Author's Note:**

> For Prompt #[163](https://docs.google.com/document/d/16er_sVwwFtbVQxtiFqHRWhw09kwNYhywsB-R48qtVPU/edit#):  
Career Theme: Rockstar!Draco, photographer!Harry  
Secondary Theme: Travel Fair  
Additions: sexpot!Draco, gagging for it!Harry, maybe some angst, pining, fun rockstar life details  
Scenario: Draco hires Harry to be the photographer for his worldwide tour. Harry quickly becomes very smitten.
> 
> Thank you to my wonderful beta Erin_Riwen for her long suffering patience and willingness to put up with me and my moods. This fic is a teaser for 'Sly' although it works as a stand alone story as well. It was written for HD Fan Fair 2019.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are love!

“I can’t believe you voluntarily got on Noberta’s back,” Ron was still grumbling as they pushed their way into the Paris nightclub. The redhead was a full head above the crowd making it easy to spot him even in the dim lights of the club. 

They were both dressed in usual club fair. Harry wore a black mesh shirt, black leather duster and pants while Ron was in tight levi’s and a flowing white shirt. Both men were picking up some interest and Harry found himself tossing out a smile and a wink at a couple of girls as he passed. It was fun and harmless and it had been a while since Harry had an opportunity for either.

Harry shrugged, although the movement was rather lost in the jostling of the crowd. “I got some great shots from up there.”

“You are out of your mind. You were on the back of a Norwiegian Ridgeback… voluntarily… for fun! That camera has driven you right out of your skull.” His volume rose to be heard over the noise of the band currently center stage. “I thought you had calmed down after defeating Voldemort. You walked away from the Aurors, been spending most of your time at home working on your house. ‘Harry has turned over a new leaf’, I told myself. But noooo … not you. You were just waiting, biding your time, lulling me into a false sense of security until BAM! …. A new obsession. A new reason to run around riding on dragons and getting up in the middle of the night and … and …. going out of your mind.”

“Getting up right before sunrise isn’t the middle of the night,” Harry shot back good naturedly, “ and the light is better first thing in the morning.”

“Ha!”

“I got some great pictures of the sunrise.”

“And you had to drag me with you because … ?”

“Well, this is still your assignment.”

“Absolutely out of your mind, “ Ron grumbled again, but it was more of a shout now. As they fought their way towards the stage, it became an increasing struggle to be heard over the noise of the speakers right in front of them. “Hey, don’t you want to get higher up so you can see more of the stage?”

“No, I don’t think so. I think bottom up shots will be more dramatic. I’ve been checking out pictures of famous bands performing and a lot of the best ones are bottom up action shots. I think this is good right here, actually.”

“You sure? You’ll never get a steady shot from down here.”

Harry flashed Ron a mischievous smile. 

“What? You didn’t ...” Ron cut himself off and then pulled closer. “You didn’t do anything to the camera did you?”

“It’s minor. I figured it out while I was riding around on Noberta. With the wind and her moving beneath me I was having a hard time keeping things steady. It’s just a little bit of help in case I get jostled.”

Ron scratched the back of his head and squinted at him before sighing and giving in. “We're supposed to be doing things the Muggle way ... but, as long as no one finds out, I’m not sure what harm it will do.”

They pushed forward until they were right at center stage, fairly close up in the mosh pit of pressed bodies bouncing to the music of the band opening for ‘Sly’.

“Why don’t you go find Ms. Lockhart, the ‘Sly’ band tour manager. Tell her we’re here and say we’re sorry for being late.”

“What?,” Ron struggled to stay on his feet pressed in between all of the bodies. He was obviously miserable in the noise and the heat.

“Why don’t you go find Ms. Lockhart?” Harry upped his volume.

“What?!” Ron yelled again.

“Go! Find! Miriam!” Harry bellowed back.

“You! Good! Here?!” Ron yelled.

Harry just nodded and with a wave, Ron allowed himself to be pushed away from the pit area.

With Ron gone, Harry found himself wanting to get caught up in the excitement of the crowd. The beat was good, the adrenaline high and everyone seemed loud and happy. Harry almost felt bad sneaking out his wand and doing a quick diagnostic of the people around him. 

Nothing. No active spells. No magical residue from potions. The only thing affecting these people was the energy of being here. Satisfied, Harry stuffed his wand back in his sleeve and gave himself over to just enjoying himself. He smiled and laughed at the people around him who smiled happily back, as they all bounced and danced together. It was marvelous.

The opening act closed up after another song and everyone took a moment to catch their breath. The crowd dispersed a bit and people wandered off to get drinks as the crew started re-arranging the instruments and equipment on the stage. 

Harry felt a knot of anticipation start to build. This was it, the first time he would see Malfoy or the other Slytherins since the final battle, the first time he would hear their music. He found himself hopeful for what was to come, hoping the crowd would like them … no, more than that … hoping the crowd would love them. 

Harry had never had the opportunity to root for Malfoy, always on the other side of a bitter confrontation, whether Quidditch or House Points or … well everything. But, things were different here. The Slytherin was Harry’s classmate and fellow wizard and Malfoy his and his success was something that would reflect on him too. Harry was truly hoping Robards was wrong, that the Slytherins were not cheating the system, but had found a way to excel despite everything that had been stacked against them.

Everyone poured back into the center area as the lights dimmed. Harry found himself holding his breath. Bodies moved in the darkness. A hush fell over the whole club as they all waited. 

There was someone at the drums. 

Wooden sticks tapped out a soft beat.

A count.

One. Two. Three.

Loud familiar cords ripped through the quiet of the club. The unmistakable opening to Phantom of the Opera caught everyone off guard, grabbing attention as the unexpected sounds resonated through every chest.

Everyone laughed as the cords died out.

“Blaise.” That was Malfoy’s voice, deep and resonating, washing over the crowd with almost as much power as the chords of the music. People laughed again at the obvious scolding tone in that one word. The lights came up just enough for everyone to see Malfoy, tall and majestic, the microphone in hand as he peered back over his shoulder towards the keyboard and his bandmate. 

He was wearing a golden shirt that flowed, undone down to the navel and tight enough in all the right places to leave little to the imagination. Draco’s chest was smooth and nicely curved. He didn’t have Harry’s washboard abs but there was nothing extra on the tuck of his flat tummy. Forest green velvet pants, tied at the waist with a wide sash that shimmered like silk in the club lights and leather boots completed the look. He seemed to transcend common concepts like gender. It was like a godling, one of the heroes of Greek legend, brother to Apollo, friend of Hercules and Perseus, had stepped out of the legends of the ancient past to grace them with his presence.

“Oops,” Blaise responded to Draco with a cheeky grin and the laughter picked up even louder than before. “We’re not playing Phantom today are we?” 

“No Blaise.” Malfoy’s voice was patronizing and teasing and charming as hell.

Blaise shrugged and grinned and everyone laughed and cooed at the banter.

“Alright Greg,” Malfoy said, not letting the energy of the moment die. “One more time for the cheap seats over there.”

The crowd went wild. 

At the drums, Goyle tapped out the beat …. One, two, three and they were off.

The music was fantastic, snarky and upbeat and catchy. Malfoy croned into the microphone, his rich voice rumbling down every spine as he sang.

“_We used to rule the world…_” he sang as the music swelled beneath his voice.

“_... but we lost it,_” The crowd sang with him.

“The darkness bled us out,” Malfoy sang back.

“ _… we just watched it,_” the crowd responded.

It was a conversation, Harry realized. Malfoy and the crowd singing to each other and there were people around him who knew every word.

“_We didn’t stand_  
We didn’t fight  
We watched others bleed and die  
Too scared to defend what was ours by right  
We used to rule the world …”

“But we lost it,” Harry mouthed along. It did not take a genius to figure out what Malfoy was singing about. While the beat was lively, the feel of the song was intense and filled with pain. They were mourning what they had lost, what they had let slip away and even though the crowd did not understand like Harry did, looking around he saw that everyone in that club was mourning with them.

The feelings were real and powerful and addicting. Harry was swept up in the song, mourning opportunities missed, things that got left behind and lost along the way. It did not matter that his losses were different from Malfoy’s. The true genius of the song was that it didn’t matter. ‘Come mourn with me,’ the song seemed to say, ‘and we will be stronger as we mourn together.’

Harry didn’t know when he started taking pictures, it was almost an extension of the song itself. Shots of Malfoy, moving to the beat of the music, his long white blond hair fanned out around his head like some elegant underwater sea creature. Shots of Goyle and Blaise as they leaned into the music, each intent on the passion they were creating; shots of Pansy, her whole body moving to the beat as she ran the length of the stage with her guitar.

Just when Harry thought he knew what to expect, the song changed. The soft lyrical tones that had overlaid the driving beat suddenly changed to something hard and fierce. Pansy ripped the microphone away from Malfoy and started rapping at an intense pace.

The words were lost to Harry, but the anger and passion was not. He snapped shot after shot of the amazing energy that was Pansy and then turned his camera to the crowd as he realized how many of them knew every word, mouthing, singing, screaming along with her as she drove them into an even greater frenzy of energy and passion.

And while Pansy rapped, Malfoy danced. It was breathtaking and erotic. The blond gyrated wildly behind Pansy, his long, lithe body a physical representation of the music pouring off the stage. Harry could not take his eyes off of him. Sweat darkened his hairline and gleamed on his chest; the shiny green pants almost black with sweat leaving little to the imagination. Malfoy was hard, his aroused state obvious and thrilling on the bright stage as he danced for the crowd. Just like that, the ache in Harry’s chest inspired by the mourning and loss of the song transmuted into something else entirely.

Harry found himself responding and a desire greater than he had ever experienced before rode him. He wanted to catch Malfoy’s wild hair in his fingers and suck the sweat from his neck. It took all of his self control to stop himself from leaping up on that stage and dragging Malfoy’s body against his own. All Harry’s loss and pain seemed to shift as he watched that beautiful body move. He wanted with a strength and passion that shook him to the core. Of all the crazy, adrenaline filled, death defying things Harry had done in his life, nothing felt quite like standing in that packed club, caught up in the magic of wanting Draco Malfoy. 

How could anyone resist wanting something so beautiful? The thought broke Harry out of his trance and he pulled his eyes away from the stage. Once more he pulled out his wand and checked the crowd. No magic. No magical ingredients in the air. The spell the ‘Sly’ band was casting over the crowd was completely natural, a combination of charisma and talent.

Harry took a deep breath and acknowledged this new desire that burned in his gut was also perfectly natural. He had broken up with Ginny when he realized neither of them felt the passion they should for the other. Admitting his past interest in Malfoy, his archrival, had never been purely irritation or even platonic had been a first step to accepting his own sexuality. Now he was forced to accept that his feelings ran even deeper.

Harry Potter was no longer the little boy that wanted, powerless to do anything about it. He was the Savior of the Wizarding World, one of the most powerful wizards of his generation. He had fought a war to protect his friends and avenge the death of his parents. He had stood against a powerful villain that had caused a two generations to tremble just at the mention of his name. No, Harry Potter was no longer that weak little boy. 

There would be no denial or putting this off, Harry was too self aware for any of that nonsense.

These days, what Harry Potter wanted he got and he wanted Draco Malfoy, body and soul.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please support the author by clicking on the kudos button and leaving a comment below! ♥


End file.
